Frozen
by PeriwinklePapaya
Summary: George Wells. Brilliant, but lost. Incredible, but broken. A short story that glimpses into a future, a past and a present, But leaves you wondering which really is which.


Frozen -PeriwinklePapaya

"Maria! Oh, God! Maria speak to me, please." George cried, crawling over to where she lay, "Maria..." he choked out.

George grabbed at the flimsy fabric of her dress, rolling Maria's limp body towards him,letting out a blood curdling cry. He began to weep.

They tried to pull him away from her, but he fought them.

"George" a far off voice called out " Hey George, buddy!" The same voice, a man's, said again this time nearer. "George are you home?" It was Dean.

George launched himself into sitting position. His forceful awakening seemingly propelled him off the couch and onto the hard floor. He rolled awkwardly trying to avoid further injury, and in the process managed to crack his shoulder against the hard metal edge of his coffee table. He cursed loudly as pain blossomed throughout his arm.

"Oh, there you are George! Thought I heard you!" Dean said, laughing. George found he couldn't smile.

"Dean, I dreamt about Maria again." Dean immediately lost his joking demeanor,

"George, I'm going to have to call the psychiatrist you know, I can't let you keep reliving that moment every night..." he said softly.

"No. Not yet! Not again," George replied, his voice sounding somewhat urgent. "I think I've come up with something that will help." he added. "That'll change everything."

Dean looked unimpressed.

"Just give me a bit of time..." George pleaded.

Dean sighed, stood up and paced around the room.

"Look, I... I just-" he mumbled. Finally he slumped his shoulders, defeated. "Okay fine, you've got 24 hours before I tell someone..." he said, then, almost as an afterthought he added: "So what is this mysterious 'something' you mentioned?"

"Well," George started. "It's sort of a time machine..."

Dean laughed, "Leave it to you to try and invent something impossible."

_Part two_

George looked triumphantly at the watch that laid in front of him. It looked somewhat cobbled together, but still quite nice for someone who wasn't a watchmaker. The finishing piece, a microchip that was needed to access and transmit his memories to the watch, was placed around his ear. Similar to the way the "distance talking" devices work.

George turned the dial on the watch, waiting for the sensation that would tell him it had worked.

Nothing happened.  
He closed his eyes, counting to ten under his breath.  
"one, two, three, fou-" when a feminine voice stopped him in his tracks:  
"George, sweetheart, you've won!"- it was Maria, it was his wife.  
He wanted to clasp her hands to hold her close to feel the beating of her heart against his, something he thought he would never be able to do again. He opened his eyes.  
"Maria-" he called out but no sound left his throat, "Maria-" he tried again, this time looking around and taking in his surroundings. He was in a theatre. He tried to look down at himself, to see what or who he was. He seemed to be an older man wearing fairly extravagant clothing, it became apparent that he was not in own body. That he was in fact, seeing this scene from someone else's point of searched again for Maria.  
He saw her, she was heading towards the stage,  
Suddenly he knew.  
_ No, dear god no. Not again._ he thought  
It was his worst nightmare, the memory he had relived every day since it happened.  
A gunshot rang out.  
Maria's body fell. Her angel face frozen in a look of shock, marred by the bullet wound in the middle of her forehead.  
He screamed, but no one could hear.  
He cried but no one could see.

As the nurse went around her morning rounds, she stopped to peek in one room in particular. The little name plaque read _George Wells. _The woman sighed.  
"Such a shame." She murmured. The man in that room, whose screams could be heard when the ward was quiet, was the same man who had once been known as the most brilliant mind of the century.

A/N Hi, Thanks for reading. Please leave a review and let me know what you think.

This is just a short story I wrote for the joy of writing... as well as for the joy of not failing English class.


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